


Are You There God? It's Me, Bela Talbot

by bandedbulbussnarfblat



Series: Bela, Rising [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Past Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-08-17
Packaged: 2020-09-06 03:44:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20284840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bandedbulbussnarfblat/pseuds/bandedbulbussnarfblat
Summary: Seeing her mother again after all these years is jarring.  Oh, hell had tried torture, but it just wasn't the same as the real deal.  Nothing could quite beat that disappointed look in her mother's eyes, the one that said she wasn't good enough, that it was all her fault, that she brought this on herself.“I was a child.  You were supposed to protect me.”“You killed me Abbie, now I'm going to kill you.”





	Are You There God? It's Me, Bela Talbot

Bela has been researching angels with Bobby since her and Dean got back. She can hear Dean and Sam in the kitchen arguing about whether Castiel is an angel or something else. From what she and Bobby have found, an angel is the only thing that makes sense.

“Come take a look at what we found,” Bela calls out.

“I got stacks of lore, biblical, pre-biblical, some of it's in damn cuneiform.” Bobby says. It is truly an impressive collection. Bela hasn't seen so many books on the supernatural since her childhood. “It all says an angel can snatch a soul from the pit.”

“What else?” Dean asks.

“Nothing,” Bela says. “Nothing else mentioned anywhere in the lore we've read.”

Dean doesn't look happy. Sam on the other hand, looks thrilled. “Dean, this is good news.”

“How?”

“Because for once this isn't just another round of demon crap. I mean, maybe you were saved by one of the good guys, you know?”

Bela almost feels bad for raining on Sam's parade. “Then why save me? I have no illusions to what kind of person I was; it wasn't the type that gets saved by the good guys.”

In her experience, people didn't get saved at all. It was a dog eat dog world and if you wanted something done you better do it yourself.

“She has a point,” Dean says. “If there's angels, what's next, God?”

“Vegas money is on yes,” says Bobby.

“I don't know guys.”

“I know you aren't all choir boy about this stuff but this is becoming less and less about faith and more and more about proof,” Sam says, gesturing with his hands.

Bela can believe there are angels—there's lore to back it, at least in theory. That doesn't mean there is a God, even if Castiel called himself an angel of the lord. Who knew what kind of pecking order angels had? Where orders came from? Humans believed and did horrible, terrible things in the name of God. Who was to say angels were any different? Hell, maybe angels invented the idea of God to mess with humans. “Proof of a god that cares enough about me to rescue me from the pit? Unlikely.”

And why would there be a God to rescue her? He never came when she prayed as a child for help. He never intervened all those times her father had crept into her room at night. Never answered her pleas for it to stop. She had to find a way to save herself and it cost her her soul.

“I'm not buying it,” Dean agrees.

“Why not?” Sam says.

“Because why me? Why her? If there is a god out there why would he give a crap about us?”

“Dean-”

“I mean, I've saved some people and I figure that made up for the stealing and the ditching chicks. But why do I deserve to get saved? I'm just a regular guy.”

“Apparently you're a regular guy whose important to the guy upstairs.” Sam says, then gestures at Bela “And a regular girl.”

“Oh, I'm far from regular,” Bela says, “But I'm not _that_ extraordinary.”

“And I don't like getting singled out at birthday parties, much less by God.”

“Okay, well, too bad, because I think he wants you to strap on your party hats.”

Dean lets out a defeated sigh. “Fine. What do we know about angels?”

Bela lifts the stack in front of her. “This should cover the basics.”

Dean points at Sam. “You're going to get me some pie.”

///

Bela rides with Sam mostly because she wants to get out of Bobby's house. She's starting to go stir crazy surrounded by men. She wants this over so she can move on with her life. She's sure by now all her money and loot have been found and reclaimed but it'll be easy enough to set up a new identity and start working again. Maybe she'll try for something less dangerous this time. Keep things above board and legal. Then again, probably not.

Sam is on the phone with Dean. “Dude, when have I ever forgotten the pie. Exactly.”

There's a girl looking at Sam, and she doesn't look too pleased to see Bela there. Bela wonders if it's an old girlfriend. She looks shifty. “You go inside, I'm going to get some gas.”

Bela rolls her eyes. As if she doesn't know he's going to go talk to this mystery woman. She thinks about pushing Sam on the issue, but she doesn't care enough. It has nothing to do with her. She'd rather spend her time stocking up on valuable supplies. Bobby's been accommodating, but all his toiletries are man-scented and he doesn't exactly have make-up lying around. Sam can pay for it all, of course, he has a credit card. She still has nothing.

She grabs the chips and Dean's pie, some toiletries, as well as some make-up, not her usual brand, but the best she can hope to find from a fill up place. She goes to the register to ring up. The guy behind it eyes her like she's the snack. Ugh. She might be flattered, given she's not even had hair spray to work with, but she's too tired to care. She's used to silk sheets, not Bobby's couch. “My boyfriend is just outside, I'll get him to pay.”

Outside, the girl is trying to walk away from Sam. He grabs her. “Sam, they're angels. I'm a demon. They're not going to care if I'm being helpful. They smite first, then they ask questions later.”

Interesting. But just why is Sam chit-chatting with a demon? Bela hangs back to listen.

“What do you know about them?”

“Not much. I've never met one and I don't really wanna. All I know is that they scare the holy hell out of me. Watch yourself, Sam.”

Sam chuckles. “I'm not scared of angels.”

The demon walks away.

Bela turns the corner. “Sam, there you are. I need your credit card.”

Sam hands it to her without much thought. He's too busy looking where the girl has walked away. Bela wonders if they're lovers. Dean would be furious. Sammy and a demon. It's almost sensational enough to make her cause trouble, but what would be the point? She isn't going to stir up shit just because she's bored. She needs Sam and Dean for now, and they work better together, not torn apart by fighting.

When she slides into the car beside him he scoffs at the bag. “What did you buy?”

“Basic necessities.”

Sam takes the bag from her and looks inside. “Since when is make-up a necessity?”

“I like to feel pretty.”

“You are pretty.” He says it like it's just a simple fact, as easy as noting that it's raining or that the sky is blue.

Bela grins. “Sam Winchester, was that a compliment?”

Sam actually blushes. It's adorable. “What? No. You know what you look like.”

“I am quite attractive, yes.”

“And so humble.”

“Modesty is overrated.”

///

“Keep the engine running,” Bobby says as they pull in.

“Why, what's going on?”

Bobby leans into Bela's open window. “I got a friend one state over—Olivia Lowry. I've been trying to reach her for three days on this angel thing. It's not like her to ignore this many calls.”

“Olivia Lowry, a hunter, right?” Sam says.

“Yeah, we're going to go check on her. You and Dean follow me. Bela, you're with me.”

///

Olivia is dead.

Bela doesn't care for corpses. She's not afraid of them—she isn't opposed to turning people into corpses, if she has to. She just doesn't like them. Especially when they died nasty. And Olivia Lowry definitely died nasty.

Bobby steps out. Sam and Dean move forward, Sam pointing out a salt line.

“Ghosts?” Bela guesses.

“Olivia was rocking the EMF meter.” Dean says. “But I've never seen a ghost do this to a person.”

Bobby comes back in.

“Bobby, you alright?”

“I called some hunters nearby...” Bobby says. Something in his expression makes Bela doubt this is good news.

“Good, we can use their help.” Dean says.

“Except they ain't answering their phones either.”

“Something's up, huh?” says Sam.

“You think?”

///

Carl Bates and R.C. Adams are hunting partners that live not to far from Olivia. They look even worse than her. It wasn't the look of them that got Bela, but the smell. Maybe it was because there were two bodies, but it was worse than at Olivia's. It nearly made her gag.

Sam and Dean call to say that Bobby's other hunter friend Jed is dead too.

“What the hell is going on here Bobby? Why would a bunch of ghosts suddenly want to gank off-duty hunters?”

“I don't know, but until we find out, you guys better your asses to my place.”

“We're on our way.”

They stop at a little gas station to fill up. Bela takes the chance to go to the bathroom. She's been feeling nauseous since they saw the bodies. She splashes cold water on her face and looks up into the mirror.

It frosts over.

Bela whips around and nearly screams. It's her mother.

“Abbie.”

Bela backs into the sink. “You shouldn't be here. I cremated you to be sure.”

“You're the reason I'm dead, Abbie. You killed me.”

Bela shakes her head. “It was an accident. I had nothing to do with it.”

Her mother steps closer and raises a hand towards her. There's a strange symbol on it. “You made a deal Abbie. A deal to kill me. You couldn't even do it yourself, that's how weak you were.”

Seeing her mother again after all these years is jarring. Oh, hell had tried torture, but it just wasn't the same as the real deal. Nothing could quite beat that disappointed look in her mother's eyes, the one that said she wasn't good enough, that it was all her fault, that she brought this on herself.

“I was a child. You were supposed to protect me.”

“You killed me Abbie, now I'm going to kill you.”

The ghost knocks her to the ground. Bela screams. “Bobby!”

There are fingers around her throat, squeezing tight, tight, tight and she can't breathe. Suddenly, the ghost disappears and Bobby is standing above her holding a tire iron.

“You alright?”

“Fine,” Bela says, taking his offered hand. “Let's just get out of here.”

///

There's a chill in the air inside Bobby's house. It sends goosebumps down Bela's arms, puts her on alert. Voices, faint and childlike call Bobby' name. Bobby takes a poker from the fireplace and begins searching. Bela follows closely behind him. They reach the stairs and a ball drops down each step with a thud. The chill feels colder and Bela turns and screams. Two little girls, like some shit from the Shining. Bobby swings the poker through them and they vanish. “Salt line, quick.”

Bela runs to the kitchen. In the pantry she finds a bag of rock salt and pours it along the door and the windows. “That should keep them out. Bobby?”

Bobby isn't with her. She doesn't know where he is. He should have followed. Unless...unless the ghosts snatched him. Bela's stomach drops. If anything happens to Bobby, she's fucked. The Winchesters will never forgive her and she can forget their help with whatever is going on. Aside from that, Bela _likes_ Bobby. He's cantankerous and sarcastic, but he's also kind underneath it all and he tries to save everyone, even her.

She pulls out her phone and dials Dean. He and Sam will know what to do. “What?”

“Bobby's in trouble.”

“Ghosts?”

“Two of them. Little girls.”

“Where are you?”

Bela takes a breath. “In the kitchen. Bobby told me to put up a salt line. I thought he followed me.”

Her heart is pounding in her chest. She feels light-headed, like she might faint. Bobby has been good to her. Once, she worked with the Winchesters to help save Bobby. She had ulterior motives, but she did want to help him. She's got a bit of a soft spot for him.

She thinks of the pit. Of Alastair. Of the souls she tortured to save her own. All the pain she caused. Of Bobby, who took her into his home even after she tried to kill his boys. Bobby, whose a better person than she could ever hope to be. “I'm going after him.”

“We're on the way. Be careful.”

If Bela didn't know better, she'd almost think Dean cared.

///

There's nowhere left to look but outside. Bela has the poker with her, but it feels like little protection. She feels cold, sees her breath just before something grabs her from behind.

Bela screams, but there's no one to hear her.

///

Dean sends Sam outside and searches the house. A door begins to creak and he can see his breath. “Come out, come out, whoever you are.”

“Dean Winchester, still so bossy.”

Dean turns and points his gun. It's Meg, but she's different. Her hair is longer and her clothes are more modest. “You don't recognize me? This is what I looked like before that demon cut off my hair and dressed me like a slut.”

“Meg?”

“Hi,” says Meg. She holds up her arms in the universal gesture of no harm. “It's okay, I'm not a demon.”

“You're the girl the demon possessed.”

“Meg Masters,” she says, lowering her arms. “Nice to finally talk to you, when I'm not, you know, choking on my own blood.”

She steps closer. Dean raises the gun at her. “It's okay. Seriously, I'm just a college girl. Sorry—was. I was walking home one night and got jumped by all this smoke. Next thing you know, I'm a prisoner. In here.” She lifts a hand to her head. “Now, I was awake. I had to watch while she murdered people.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Oh yeah? So sorry you had me thrown off a building?”

“Well we thought-” And what did they think? That the girl inside was dead? That she was an acceptable loss?

“No, you didn't think!” Meg cries. Her voice breaks. “I kept waiting, praying, I was trapped in there screaming at you 'just help me, please!' You're supposed to help people, Dean. Why didn't you help me?”

“I'm sorry.”

“Stop saying you're sorry!” Meg snaps. She hits him, hard enough to knock him to the ground.

“Dean rolls over. “Meg. Meg...”

Meg kicks him, kicks the gun away. She looks as vicious as she ever did when she was a demon.

“We didn't know,” Dean says, holding out a hand. But would it have mattered if they did?

“No,” Meg says, kneeling in front of him. “You just attacked. Did you ever think there was a girl in here? No. You just charged in, slashing and burning.”

Meg leans closer. “You think you're some kind of hero?”

“No, I don't.” Not after the things he's done. Not after Hell.

Meg grabs him and hauls him toward her. “You're damn right.”

There's a mark on her hand, a sigil of some kind.

“Do you have any idea what it's like to be ridden for months by pure evil?” Meg says. “While your family has no idea what happened to you?”

“We did the best we could.” It's the justification he makes for the people they've lost, that they've failed to save. It's not enough, it never has been. But what else is there to say?

///

The little ghost brats have them in a car, mouths covered. They're whining about how Bobby didn't save them. Bela wants to scream at them—no one saved her when she was there age. So some monster came and gripped them tight? Her monster came night after night. At least theirs had the courtesy of killing them.

“Bobby?”

Bela has never been more happy to hear Sam's voice. She struggles against the hand covering her mouth, but it's strong, stronger than any little girl has a right to be. Bela wonders if she had died at their age would she have came back as a ghost to haunt her father. What kind of death would it take to make this unnatural thing?

“You could have saved us Bobby. You walked right past that door.”

How many times had her mother walked past her door with her father inside? How many times could she have saved Bela, but didn't?

“The monster had us and you didn't find us. And now they won't find you.”

No one has found Bela. No one had saved her. She'd be damned again if she let a bunch of snot nosed brats send her back to Hell. She struggles and breaks free. “Sam! Over here!”

///

“It wasn't just me Dean. I had a sister. A little sister. She worshiped me. You know how little siblings are, right? How they'll do anything for you. She was never the same after I disappeared. She just...she just got lost.”

Lost like Sammy was lost without him. It's an effective guilt trip, Dean will give her that.

“And when my body was lying in the morgue, beat up, broken, do you know what that did to her?” Meg demands. She kicks Dean. “She killed herself! Because of you, Dean!”

“Because all you were thinking about was your family, your revenge, and your demons!”

Dean tries to crawl away.

“Fifty words of Latin a little sooner, and I'd still be alive. My baby sister would still be alive.” She points at him angrily, “That blood is on your hands, Dean!”

“You're right.”

///

“Bela? Hold on, I'm coming!”

Sam pries open the car she's trapped inside with Bobby. He grabs her and the ghost wails, throwing them both into the windshield of a nearby car. Sam breaks most of Bela's fall. The ghost comes for them, hand reaching out toward Sam. He swings the tire iron and it disappears.

In the car, Bobby uses the distraction to get his own iron and swing through the ghost. Bela looks up at Bobby and lets out a sigh. He's okay. They're all okay.

///

Dean finally reaches his gun. Meg has been following him crawling and she's just about where he wants her. He rolls and points it at her.

“Come on Dean, did your brain get french-fried in Hell? You can't shoot me with bullets.”

“I'm not shooting _you_.” He jerks the gun up and shoots toward the ceiling. The chandelier crashes down around Meg. “Iron.”

///

“So they're all people we know?” Sam asks.

“Not just know, people we couldn't save,” Dean answers, loading his gun. They're back in Bobby's front room. “Hey I saw something on Meg, did she have a tattoo when she was alive?”

Sam shakes his head. “I don't think so.”

“It was like a mark on her hand—almost like a brand.”

Bela looks up from the couch to Dean. “I saw a mark on my mom.”

Dean's eyes widen. “Your mom?”

“Jumped me in a gas station. She had a brand on her hand.”

“What did it look like?” Bobby asks.

Bela gets up and takes a sheet of paper from Bobby's stacks of books. She draws the sigil and flips it around to show Dean.

“That's it.”

Bobby studies the drawing. “I may have seen this before.”

Radio static crackles. Bela pulls herself up from her seat. “Not again.”

“We gotta move,” Bobby says. He shoves some books into Sam's arms. “Follow me.”

“Okay. Where are we going?”

Bobby grabs more books. “Someplace safe, you idgit.”

They follow Bobby downstairs into the basement. There's a solid iron door. Bobby pulls it open to reveal a dark, round room. There's a fan with a sigil, and weapons lining the walls, a cot bed hanging from the wall, a chair, even a desk with some research materials.

Sam touches the door. “Bobby is this-”

“Solid iron, completely coated in salt. One hundred percent ghost proof.”

Sam smiles, impressed. “You built a panic room?”

“I had a weekend off.”

Dean grins “Bobby.”

“What?”

“You're awesome.”

Bela looks around the room. “The décor is lacking, but this is impressive.”

They make themselves busy, Sam and Dean making bullets and Bobby and Bela researching.

“See this is why I can't get behind God,” Dean says, apropos of nothing.

“What are you talking about?” Sam says.

Bela struggles to hold back a groan. She doesn't want to be privy to a Winchester heart to heart.

“If he doesn't exist, fine. Bad crap happens to good people. That's how it is. There's no rhyme or reason, just random, horrible, evil. I get it, I can roll with that, but if he is out there what's wrong with him? Where the hell is he while all these decent people are getting torn to shreds? How does he live with himself, why doesn't he help?”

Bela has asked herself the same questions. “If there is a God, why doesn't he care?”

Sam looks over to Bobby for help. “I ain't touching this one with a ten foot pole.”

He taps the book in front of him. “Found it.”

“What?”

“The symbol you saw, the brand on the ghost. The mark of the witness.”

“Witness?” says Sam, “Witness to what?”

“The unnatural. None of them died what you'd call ordinary deaths. See, these ghosts, they were _forced_ to rise. They woke up in agony. They were like rabid dogs. It ain't there fault. Someone rose them on purpose.”

“Who?” asks Sam.

Bobby shrugs. “Do I look like I know? But whoever it was used a spell so powerful it left a mark, a brand on their souls.”

Sam rose to his feet and walked over to Bobby and Bela.

“Whoever did this had big plans. It's called the rising of the witnesses. It figures into an ancient prophecy.”

“Prophecy?” says Bela.

“What book is that prophecy from?” Dean asks.

“Well, the widely distributed version is just for tourists, you know. But long story short—revelations.”

“_The_ Revelations?” says Bela.

“This is a sign,” Bobby says ominously.

“A sign of what?” Sam, Dean and Bela say at once.

Bobby leans back in his seat and sighs. “The apocalypse.”


End file.
